


Rituals

by Thedupshadove



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Title: I Make Fun of my own Half-Baked Romantic Imagination, But I'm hardly the first on in this fandom to do that, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Michaels is probably slightly ooc in the form of not being enough of a bastard, Never start shipping things ironically kids, Or at least semi-seriously, Other, before you know it you're in it for real, except Sasha knows in detail what the Spiral is and what it does because...reasons, should probably be set mid-late season one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:48:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25204222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thedupshadove/pseuds/Thedupshadove
Summary: She finds it at the door to her building, standing around with the air of somebody trying to seem like they aren’t waiting for someone. “Hello”, she says, mulling over whether or not to be frightened.
Relationships: Sasha James/Michael | The Distortion
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	Rituals

She finds it at the door to her building, standing around with the air of somebody trying to seem like they aren’t waiting for someone. “Hello”, she says, mulling over whether or not to be frightened.

“Hello.” Its voice is pleasant enough. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Can I help you?”

It turns to fully face her. “Possibly. Or rather, you definitely can, and it’s possible that you will. Do you remember when I told you that I wanted to be friends?”

“Yes.”

“I lied.”

She raises an eyebrow. “So you’d rather be my enemy?”

“No.”

….Ah. Well. She continues to look at it, rather like she’s examining an unfamiliar bug. “And you’ve come here to, what, press your suit?”

“Something of that nature, yes.”

Silence hangs in the air for a moment before she breaks it “Any particular plans?”

She thinks it’s pursing its lips. “I’m not sure. How exactly does something like me go about courting someone like you, after all?”

“I’m sure I couldn’t tell you.”

“I could sweep you away to my domain.” It doesn’t sound particularly married to the idea—more like it’s bringing it up to show willing. 

“And trap me in a world of twisting reality that will drive me mad, until you emerge as the only familiar, the only safe, the only trustworthy thing, prompting me to fall into your arms? How delightfully Gothic. I think I’ll pass.”

It nods. “Very well. Let me see, what other traditions are there, in a situation such as this? Perhaps I should start showering you with gifts?”  
Her lips quirk up a little. “Have to decline that as well, I think. Though I will admit to a degree of morbid curiosity.”

“Oh?”

“Your domain is tricks. Lies. Senses betraying people; the twisting and warping of reality until nothing of note can be trusted. That doesn’t exactly translate into roses and jewelry, does it?”

It chuckles. It’s a deeply strange sound, but there’s a kind of music to it. “Not exactly, no. Then again, I could bend reality about the nature of banks accounts, rent statements, even names on leases.” It looks down at its hands, folded in his lap. “If you’d like.”

She sucks air in through her teeth. “Ooooo, tempting. But better not. A relationship that begins with one party making a significant difference in the financial life of the other always has a shadow of power imbalance hanging over it for the rest of its existence, and heaven knows we’re going to have enough of that already.”

It jerks its head up sharply and widens its eyes. “ _Going_ to?”

She smiles a little. “Why don’t you come on up? I can make us some soup—can you eat human food?”

“I can do something with it.”

“Good, good. And you can tell me a little more about yourself.”

For a moment it looks….shy? Nervous? “I don’t know how good I’ll be at that.”

“I don’t need poetry. But if we’re to….get to know each other better, then I need to understand better what it is I’m getting to know.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right. Lead on, then.”

Sasha opens the door and starts in, and if you had looked out through one of the warped-glass windows at that moment, you might have seen an impossibly tall, thin figure skipping in after her.


End file.
